


I love you, and you don't pay me

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crossover?? I guess?, M/M, McLennon, Mentions of George/Stuart/Astrid, Paul's yearning, my own private idaho - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 09:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21251330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Based on the campfire scene from My Own Private Idaho.Paul and John finally get a moment alone while camping one night, and Paul decides to confess his feelings.





	I love you, and you don't pay me

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This work is based on the campfire scene from the movie My Own Private Idaho. I highly recommend you watch the scene - it's amazing and well worth the watch ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MEmreSVR1NQ ). Anyway, this is just a quick piece I wrote so I hope you enjoy. As always comments and kudos are appreciated!

The fire burned bright, sparks landing on the dark grass. Paul sat cross-legged, fixated on the flames. John lay propped up on one elbow, gazing up at the stars, a cigarette in hand.

The light of the fire danced across their faces. They were both silent, taking in the peace and quiet.

Paul couldn't remember the last time they'd been like this. Alone. Properly alone. They were constantly playing shows, and when they weren't doing a 9-5 (or more like 8-3, considering they mostly played at all hours of the night these days) at the Kaiserkeller they were so preoccupied with sleep, partying and the local girls that there was rarely a moment to _breathe_, let alone talk.

Paul had missed just sitting with John. More than he liked to admit.

John shifted slightly, turning to look at the fire. "Getting away from everything feels good, huh?"

"Yeah, it does."

He didn't remember when or where this idea of running off had appeared. It was probably John who suggested it, that they go disappear for a night into some quiet corner of Hamburg.

They just needed a night that wasn't full of watered-down drinks, loud music and unknown pills. They needed a break.

At one point George was going to come along. Maybe Stuart, Astrid wasn't sure either. It was too hard to get everyone to leave anyway, so one by one they had all politely declined until it was just Paul and John.

_"Just us mates, camping out under the stars!"_, that's what John had said.

"They're going to have our hides when we get back, won't they?" John joked. The Kaiserkeller manager was a meat-faced brute who was constantly shouting things in German - not that any of them spoke it, but they all knew it roughly translated to _"No breaks! Stop slacking! Get back to work!"_. An unannounced trip away was definitely not allowed. Not that Paul cared. They could fire him, hell, they could deport him if they wanted. Being able to sit with John was more than enough.

He felt a lump rise in his throat. A little voice in the back of his mind began to shout. _Now! Do it now! Talk to him!_ Another voice shouted back. _No! I can't! _

There was so much he wanted to say in that moment, and yet...

What could he say anyway? The things he wanted to talk about weren't natural. It wasn't natural for him to want to be alone with John, or be near John. There shouldn't be butterflies in his stomach and a pounding in his chest when they were sitting so close.

How could he explain that somewhere between Liverpool and Hamburg he'd fallen in love?

He still hadn't figured out how to deal with what he was feeling. Anger and repression had slowly given way to begrudging acceptance and the hope it would go away. The hope that he'd stop wanting to kiss John every time he was near, that someone else would take his fancy. He'd decided to wait for the feelings to pass him by, and never say a word. But something about the cool night air, the shining moonlight and the crackle of the fire had changed him. There were no good moments to confess love in the grimy clubs and dark streets. Now there was one, and Paul was itching to say something.

_ I shouldn't say anything. He's going to hate me. He's going to think I'm disgusting, and he'll kick me out of the band, and..._ Paul's own thoughts drowned out John's stories and jokes.

"You alright?" John tapped him lightly with a half-hearted smile.

Paul looked away, poking the fire with a snapped off tree branch. "What do I, uh... what do I mean to you?" He asked.

John paused, staring up at him. "What do you mean to me? Paul, you're my best friend. You're my songwriting partner, my bassist." John laughed quietly. "Dunno, what else do you want me to say?"

"That's good. It's good, it's... it's good to be friends. Mates. Y'know. Songwriting partners and all that."

"...So?"

_He isn't getting it. Shit._ Paul took a deep breath in.

"But I care about you. As..." His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, the silence filling in the gaps. _You mean more to me than just a friend._

John sat up. "Paul, I'd only have sex with a guy for money."

Right. Paul remembered those nights where John would go off with some young guy, coming back $20 richer, a fact that everyone either didn't notice or purposefully ignored. John had only ever talked about it once.

_ "$20 is $20, innit? It's when you start doing shit for free that you start to grow wings… You grow wings and become a fairy." _

Paul continued to poke at the fire, scared to look John in the eyes. "Yeah... I know."

"And two guys can't love each other."

"Yeah... Well, I don’t know. I mean... I mean, for me, I could love someone even if I, you know, wasn’t paid for it..."

"I love you, and... you don’t pay me."

John sighed, pausing to smoke his cigarette. "Paul-"

"I really wanna kiss you." He whispered. His heart was beating out of his chest. He felt like a ton of bricks was sitting on his shoulders.

_ He doesn't get it. He's never going to get it. _

"Maybe... I should go." Paul looked down at the dirt. He stood up, shaking slightly. "But... I do love you. However you want me to."

"Goodnight Paul." He felt his stomach drop, an ache spreading through his body. "Goodnight." He mumbled.

John watched as he wandered off into the darkness. He leaned towards the flames.

"I love you too." John whispered to himself.

He threw the stick into the fire. He watched as it set alight, fueling the flames.


End file.
